What Good Does Talking Do?
by HookedOnDestiel
Summary: Destiel Slash. Bobby and Sam find a way to bring Castiel back but they'll need Dean's help. Based on a fake spoiler for Season 7 Episode 8.
1. Chapter 1

**What Good Does Talking Do?**

_Spoilers: Takes place after Season 7 Episode 5: Shut Up, Dr. Phil, but ignores the final scene where the Leviathan attacks them and witchy guy played by James Marsters shows up to save their keisters. This is based on a fake spoiler for Season 7 Episode 8. It was posted all over the place in October 2011. __I was extremely disappointed to see that it didn't come true. I had the basis for this whole story worked out in my mind immediately after reading that spoiler._

**Prologue**

Sam wanted to talk. Not that Sam ever wanted to _not_ talk. Yes Dean's been drinking…almost constantly…while on the job, but he doesn't want to talk about it. Talking doesn't do any good; burying emotions is the Winchester way. No one knows what went wrong with Sam. Okay, so maybe talking did just save their lives with the witchy couple but it wouldn't fix this and so when Sam asks, as he always does all emo and kicked puppy dog eyes, Dean said no, but he also let his brother know that they were good.

Of course, Sammy being Sammy couldn't leave well enough alone. And so when Sam pushed again in the car, Dean put in a tape. And when Sam tried to talk over it, Dean turned up the volume and sang along, loudly and purposefully off-key. And when he decided it was time to pull over for the night, Dean jumped out of the car and practically ran to check-in. And when he got back to the car after procrastinating long enough to give Sam time to remove their bags, Dean tossed Sammy his key for the room and told him not to wait up before Sam could even think about opening his mouth.

**Chapter One**

Sam tossed and turned, unable to sleep. He was going to have to find a way to get Dean to talk to him. There was only so much luck Dean could push, drinking on the job, before it caught up to him. Dean had always been a hard drinker, but not even close to this since Dad. Something was really wrong.

It was hours before Dean got in and when he did, Sam could smell the alcohol from across the room. He'd almost hoped that Dean had picked up a girl. That, at least, would seem more normal and healthier than this road of self-destructive behavior. Sam waited until Dean walked into the bathroom before pushing the chest of drawers in front of the motel room door.

He sat down on the edge of his bed and waited for Dean to come out of the bathroom. It wasn't a particularly clever plan, but it should work. Dean was drunk and cornered and Sam had no intention of giving up.

"What the fuck, Sammy?"

"We need to talk, Dean," Sam stated calmly.

"Why?"

"You know why."

"Won't do any good," Dean slurred.

"You won't know for sure until you try." Sam smiled encouragingly, "What's wrong?"

"What the fuck's not wrong?" Dean stood shakily in front of Sam, fists clenched. "Mom died. Dad died. Jessica died. Jo and Ellen died. Everyone fucking leaves and we just keep going. We're cursed. It never ends and they're not coming back."

Sam studied Dean's crumpled face. It had been over a year since Jo and Ellen had died. Even dead drunk Dean was still not saying what was truly bothering him. Sam stood up and gingerly laid his hand on Dean's shoulder. He knew that if Dean hadn't been plastered he would've shook Sam's hand off instantly. Dean avoided any semblance of chick-flick moments like they would make his penis fall off.

As Dean met Sam's sympathetic eyes, something inside him broke. Dean drops to the floor, crying. "He's not coming back," Dean whispers between body-wracking sobs.

Sam stares. He can't help it. Sure he knew something was wrong, knew that Dean was holding something back, but this almost sounds like… He hadn't expected… "Dean?"

"It's my fault. He did it for me. He fucking did everything for me. Even the whole Crowley/purgatory thing was actually for me. If Ca-" Dean stopped unable to bring himself to even say his name. "If he'd never drug my ass outta hell then he would be fine. He should've just let me rot there."

"Dean," Sam prompted gently, trying to get his attention.

"What the hell kinda friend doesn't notice something like that?"

"What?" Sam asked, genuinely confused.

"He turned to Crowley. Crowley! And we didn't notice. I didn't notice."

"It's okay Dean. There's nothing you could have done."

"He asked me to trust him, to stand by him the one time he asked and I didn't. I left. I coulda stayed and tried to figure something else out with him. Maybe if I'd done what he asked he could've skipped the whole god kick. I'm a sucky friend."

"There's nothing you could have done," Sam repeated, feeling useless.

"Doesn't matter anyway," Dean mumbled. "He's not coming ba-"

Sam leaned down, checking Dean's pulse. He was unsurprised to see that Dean'd just passed out. He doubted Dean would remember anything in the morning. Getting drunk as a skunk would do that to you. He needed to come up with some excuse to head over to Bobby's. This wasn't going to get better anytime soon and it was really not bright to hunt while drunk.


	2. Chapter 2

**Chapter Two**

_A few hours later…_

"It's worse this time. Normally he would kill things violently, smash shit up, anything. He's making himself numb by staying drunk."

"Shit. Stupid idjit." Bobby paused thoughtfully for a moment, "Do you think that… You know that… Were they…" Bobby took a deep breath then quickly, "Do you think Dean and the angel were bumping uglies?"

Sam didn't answer right away. "If you'd asked me that a few months ago I would've laughed the question off. Now…I'm so not sure."

Even though he'd asked, Bobby was surprised at Sam's serious consideration of the question.

"There's no question that Dean loves women. Hell it's amazing Ben didn't turn out to be his with as many women as he's been with. Condoms are not 100% effective you know." Sam shook his head at the thought of a little Dean running around somewhere.

"Somehow I doubt that Dean would've done anything even if he had feeling for Castiel. You know he thinks he doesn't deserve to be happy and I've never seen any indication of him being into men…except…"

"What?" Bobby asked when Sam didn't continue.

"That time when Gabriel put us in TV Land…there was this one…show, where Dean knew all of the characters and…he uhhhh…seemed a little fangirlish over the main male character…realized it was Gabriel right away…said that 'part of what makes Dr. Sexy sexy is fact that he wears cowboy boots'."

Bobby chuckled, momentarily forgetting his worry over Dean. "Wish I coulda seen that."

"Be happy you weren't there. That one wasn't so bad but there was this game show that punched you in the nuts if you got an answer wrong and a commercial where I had to pretend to have an STD." Sam winced at the memory, "It was horrible."

That, of course, just made Bobby laugh louder.

"Just a second, it sounds like Dean's done with his shower." Sam took the phone away from his mouth and yelled out to Dean, "I'm gonna run out and get breakfast. Any requests?"

"Pie," Dean shouted from behind the bathroom door.

"Okay, but I'm going to get you some real food too."

"Whatever you say _mom_," Dean sarcastically called out in reply.

Sam grabbed the keys off of the nightstand and exited the room before talking to Bobby again.

"Okay. We can talk again."

"Doesn't sound too different if you ask me," Bobby commented.

"I'm pretty sure that he's hoping that if he pretends last night didn't happen and acts normal that I'll let it go," Sam sighed, wishing he knew what to do. "We've gotta do something Bobby. Preferably before we face something tougher than a slightly irate ghost."

"You boys 'bout done with that case?"

"We haven't technically started it yet. Should be a simple salt and burn. I'm pretty sure I figured out who the ghost is last night based on a couple of stories floating around on the internet. We should be in the town by this afternoon and it'd probably be best to wait until dark to dig him up."

"I'll find something easy close to my place and call you back. Give you boys an excuse to come visit."

"That sounds good. Any idea on how we should deal with Dean?"

Bobby had been thinking about that since Sam called. Dean was sure to clam right up if they tried to talk about it. "I was thinking that we don't know for sure that the angel's dead. Boy's died and come back enough times to be a Winchester," Bobby laughed; he'd never dare to admit what it did to him every time one of his boys bit it.

"Yeah, we have a habit of doing that," Sam commented wryly.

"Maybe we should try summoning him and if that doesn't work hit the books?"

"It's definitely worth a try," Sam agreed. "We should probably keep what we're doing away from Dean though. He's not handling this well at all and I'd hate to think how bad off he'd be if we actually got his hopes up and failed."

"Right then. Well how about we keep him busy reading up on the Leviathan. He doesn't have to know a thing until we find something that works."

"It's better than doing nothing," Sam opened the Impala's driver's side door and slid into the car.

"I'll give you boys a call as soon as I find a nice easy case, pretend I have something going on and that I need you boys to take care of it."

"Thanks Bobby. Bye."

"You keep that idjit in your sight as much as possible. I'll talk to you later."

* * *

AN: So apparently even if you do not have the addictive gene it's possible to become addicted to feedback. Please review ;-) Another chapter should be coming soon.


	3. Chapter 3

**Chapter Three**

Sam hadn't said anything to Dean about his drinking problem after his drunken confession…but he did start reading everything they'd found before and anything new he could get his hands on about summonings and angels in general.

Sure a lot of it was rereading, back when they were trying to find a way to kill Lucifer after the Colt didn't work they'd read everything they could get their hands on about angels. Of course they were looking for completely different intel at the time so Sam was hoping that he'd be able to find something that'd bring Cas back.

Him and Bobby had tried a few summoning spells one night when Dean was out drinking, including the same one that Dean and Bobby had first used to summon Castiel years ago. Obviously they hadn't worked but Sam was not about to just give up. If the Leviathan had control of Castiel then it's possible they were powerful enough to keep him from coming and a more powerful summoning spell could possibly work.

There was also the fact that the Leviathan had said that Cas was 'gone' but if Sam had learned one thing from their lives it is that even death isn't necessarily permanent. Bobby was right. Cas had come back before and he could come back again.

As far as Dean knew they were searching for lore on the Leviathan, obviously looking for anything that might indicate a weakness. And they were but there really wasn't much to go on. In fact it was amazing that they were able to find anything considering what Death had told them, that they were put in Purgatory before God even created angels or man. It was easy to allow Dean to peruse anything that they ran across containing even the most infinitesimal piece of information on Leviathan (after he and Bobby looked through them first because everyone knew Dean wasn't the most meticulous researcher even when he was on his A game which he so clearly off of right now). Meanwhile they spent most of their time hiding from Dean that they were actually researching angel lore.

It's not like they were really expecting to find anything useful, but they had to try. Dean never handled loss well (Sam's own death was the perfect example of that) and he was definitely on the road to self-destruction.

Just yesterday they'd found him on the phone talking to _that_ doctor again. The one who'd killed Dean so he could have a chitchat with Death. Dean claimed that he wanted to ask the only being they knew of that really had knowledge of the Leviathan how to defeat them. That claim actually made it easier for Sam to argue against it. Sam knew that wasn't the real reason, but why argue about the real reason when it's easier to play along? Yeah, Dean probably would've eventually gotten around to asking about the Leviathan after getting what he really wanted to know…what exactly happened to Cas?

Sam had reminded Dean of Death's less than enthusiastic response to their last encounter and that it was more likely than not that he'd reap first and ask questions later. And why would he think Death would be willing to help them with the Leviathan anyway? Death had said that he 'found them entertaining.' Sam was fairly sure he'd managed to temporarily talk him out of trying anything so drastic.

And so they were reviewing everything they had ever found on angels and researching angel lore they are discarded previously as unhelpful in the search to stop Lucifer and the apocalypse. Hopefully one of them would find something before Dean drank himself to death.

xxxxxxx

Dean paced back and forth across the room like a caged animal. He and Sammy had been at Bobby's for a full week. They had suspended all hunting while researching the Leviathan.

Dean had spent most of this time drunk. He hadn't even really gone to bars except once or twice when Bobby and Sam's sympathetic stares started to get to him.

The few times he'd gone he hadn't even thought of picking up a girl. He'd had one clear goal in mind…getting so shit-faced that he couldn't feel anything. Every day it was taking more alcohol to reach that point and Dean wasn't sure how much longer he could keep going on without something to distract him.

"This is ridiculous!"

Sam was so startled that he dropped the book he'd been reading on the floor.

"We're hunting something tomorrow! I don't care what! I don't care where!" Dean stomped out of the room, slamming the door shut behind him.

Sam sat still, stunned. Sure he'd been expecting Dean to blow eventually, he'd just hoped he'd had more time to find something useful first.

Sam's mind was racing. Dean was still getting drunk off his ass. Had his and Bobby's idea to keep Dean from hunting done more harm than good?

Sam leaned over to pick back up the book he'd been reading. He froze, hand mere inches from it, staring at the image in front of him.


	4. Chapter 4

**Chapter Four**

"Sam? You okay boy?" Bobby asked as he entered the room seeing Sam leaning over a book unmoving.

Sam didn't look away from the book, almost as if he was afraid it would disappear if he let it out of his sight.

"Bobby," Sam took a deep calming breath, "Can you come over here and tell me if I'm seeing what I think I'm seeing?"

"How in blazes," Bobby placed a plate of sandwiches on his desk before stepping across the room, "would I know what you think you're seeing you idj- oh," Bobby's sarcastic remark died on his lips. Leaning down he picked up the book and began to pace the room while reading.

"Bobby?"

Bobby paused his pacing and looked up from the book, "It sure looks like the mark on Dean's arm."

"But what does it mean? Can we use it?" Sam asked hopefully.

"We'll need to research a bit more to see if it'll actually be of any use, but it seem that your idjit brother got himself engaged to a freaking angel," Bobby chuckled.

"Engaged?"

"Yep. Seems Castiel's handprint is the equivalent of an angelic engagement ring," Bobby smirked, imagining Dean's face if he knew.

"How is it that we didn't know about this before?"

"I haven't had this book for long, it came from Rufus' place. He left all his hunting things to me."

Sam's face dropped, "Sorry Bobby. Maybe if I-"

"No," Bobby cut him off. "Do not blame yourself. Even if you'd been at 100% there's nothing more you could have done. Rufus went out the way most hunters expect to, heck the way most hunters want to."

Sam nodded, but Bobby figured he was probably still beating himself up about it. After all, he was a Winchester.

"Here," Bobby handed Sam the book, "seems to be a whole section on it. Read up. I'm hungry."

Bobby headed back towards his sandwiches, "Ham and cheese. Want one?"

"Yeah, thanks Bobby," Sam settled back in the chair, holding the book propped against the armrest with one hand while eating his sandwich.

"Where'd Dean run off to?" Bobby asked around a mouthful of food.

Sam waited until he finished chewing and swallowed before answering, "Left his keys so he's either working on the Impala or bashing up some of your junkers. He stomped out after telling me we're going hunting tomorrow."

"Huh," Bobby scratched his head thoughtfully, "not really surprised that he's going batty just sitting around. Boy never did like research in the first place."

With the exception of an occasional giggle from Sam, Sam and Bobby worked in silence after finishing their sandwiches, Sam reading the book and Bobby glancing through his other research materials to see if they had anything else on angel marriage.

Both men jumped as they heard the screen door open. Sam quickly shut the book he was reading and slid it under the seat cushion, grabbing a book on ancient myths that he'd kept close in case Dean asked what he was reading.

"Dean," Bobby called out, "there's a couple of sandwiches in the fridge if you're hungry."

A couple of seconds later they heard a muffled, "Thanks Bobby."

Less than a minute later Dean entered the room holding one sandwich in each hand. "Fin anythin?" he asked, mouth stuffed with food.

"Not yet," Sam answered. "Bobby just got a couple more books in," he lied. "I think it would be a good idea for me to help him go through them while you look for a new case for us?"

Dean intentionally took another large bite before responding, he knew Sam hated it when he talked with his mouth full, "Sounds good."

"Gross Dean!"

Dean grinned widely, taking extra care to be as gross as possible, squishing food between his teeth before swallowing. "Sorry Samantha," Dean smirked unrepentantly, "didn't mean to offend your delicate sensibilities."

Sam hurled the mythology book at Dean, feigning annoyance when Dean managed to catch it without so much as smashing a sandwich.

It was times like this when Sam thought, for just a moment, that Dean was going to be alright. Then he'd notice something…in this case the slight sway to Dean's stance. He'd been drinking. Again.

"Hey," Sam did his best to affect an air of nonchalance, "why don't you take the bed tonight?" A hungover Dean is bad enough but he'd be as irritable as a wendigo in the morning if his back was sore from sleeping on the couch. "I wanna finish going through this book before I go to bed."

"'k Sammy," Dean tossed the book back to Sam. "Night."

"Night son."

"Goodnight Dean."

Sam waited until he could hear Dean shuffling around upstairs before bringing the book he was really interested in out from under the cushion.

* * *

AN: Castiel's coming soon I promise. Also feedback is greatly appreciated. Turns out it's highly addictive. -)


	5. Chapter 5

**Chapter Five**

Bobby finished skimming through any book that had anything to do with angels _and_ all of the new books he hadn't gone through. There was nothing else about the mark or angel marriage. Just the one Sam was reading.

And so now he was sitting…and waiting…and waiting…and waiting as Sam silently read…and read…and read…and read…and Bobby was going crazy.

Sam was fully aware of Bobby's rapidly decreasing patience.

As much as Sam accused Dean of being like their father, he was really more like Bobby. It made sense after all; Bobby was more of a father to the both of them than Dad had ever been.

Sam had actually already read the entire section on angel marriage and was actually reading it again to see if he'd missed anything. It looked _potentially_ promising, but there were a couple of possible pitfalls.

Noticing Bobby's fidgeting increasing to the point where it looked like he was about to crawl out of his skin, Sam decided to skip re-reading the last couple of pages and bring Bobby up to speed.

"The handprint on Dean's shoulder is called a mark of intent. You were right that it was like an engagement ring. Angels apparently weren't always as unfeeling as Anna claimed. They used to choose mates."

"The mark itself was actually rarely used. There's not much about it in here. Even at a time when it was fairly common for angels to take mates it was extremely uncommon for one to mark their intended mate this way."

"Under other circumstances I'd be absolutely fascinated," Bobby's voice drips with sarcasm, "but since I can't exactly pick on Dean about being engaged…" Bobby trailed off, knowing Sam would get his point. _Get to the friggin' point!_

"There is something in here that may be of use to us. One of the reasons angels did not use the mark of intent is because if their chosen neither denied or reinforced their bond then the marked human or angel could summon the angel and supposedly this summoning was undeniable."

"So there's a more powerful summoning spell that we could try?" Bobby sounded hopeful.

"_Dean_ can try it. _He_ has to be the one to read the incantation."

"Balls!" Bobby grumbled. "What are the odds this'll work?"

"There's really no way of knowing. It doesn't say if anyone ever tried it on a dead angel, so if Cas is…" Sam trailed off, not wanting to say the possibility that both of them were trying not to acknowledge.

"And if he's not?" Bobby prompted.

"If he's not, then how likely it is it'll work depends on how…_close_ Cas and Dean have been."

"Close?"

"Physically."

"You're saying that if those idjits actually got their shit together and bumped uglies that it won't work?"

"It's possible. Apparently the less intimate they've been the stronger the summoning spell is."

Bobby shook his head in disbelief, "If I had a nickel for every time I thought those two should just jump eachother and get it over with…I never thought I'd be hoping they didn't."

"Should we try to find out before we tell him about the spell?" Sam knew that dragging something like this out of Dean would be nearly impossible, but if Dean was broken now and they failed and if they had shared any level of intimacy and Dean managed to find out that it was possible that's why it didn't work… It was a lot of ifs but knowing their luck Dean would find out and who knows what his repressive brother would do then?

"He can never know the details…unless of course it works," Bobby added as an afterthought. "Do you think we could get him to do the spell without him knowing what it's for?"

"The incantation _is_ in Enochian. There are a couple of words I don't even recognize, but as far as I can tell he'll have to at least know we're trying to summon Cas because he'll have to say his name as part of the incantation."

Sam fell quiet as he quietly read the incantation again.

"We should be able to keep if from him. We could copy this into the computer and pretend a hunting buddy of yours sent it and said that whichever one of us is closest to Cas should read it."

"It's not ideal but it's definitely better than the truth." Bobby got up to stand in front of his main stash of supplies. "What'll we need?"

"Blood of the intended, holy water, bone of a lesser saint, and…" Sam's eyebrows shot up as he read the last ingredient, "ejaculate of the intended?"

"Well that's easy enough," Bobby stated calmly as he laid a vial of holy water and a bone (presumably of a lesser saint) on his desk.

"Really?" Sam asked incredulously, "and how do you propose we go about asking Dean to **jackoff** _during_ a spell?" Sam clapped his hand over his mouth, realizing he'd raised his voice to the point that he'd yelled those last few words.

Sam and Bobby sat in complete silence, staring at the ceiling and straining their ears for any indication that Dean had woken up.

"Sorry," Sam said quietly after a minute passed in utter silence. "How do you suggest we go about this?"

Bobby grabbed the book out of Sam's grasp and sat down at his desk. "I copy this and leave it with the non-Dean ingredients on my desk." Bobby continued as he wrote, "You tell Dean we found a spell for him to try and that we're heading out for a couple of days on a hunt. We'll find one _after_ we leave."

"Now, or in the morning?"

"No time like the present," Bobby quipped, "'sides, right now he's passed out and if you wake him up to tell him he'll probably barely understand you. That way we can just leave a note and hightail it outta here without having to worry about the fallout."

"Do you think he'll be alright by himself if it doesn't work?"

"Better'n he'd be if we were there watching him wanking and watching him fall apart if it doesn't work. 'Sides, if it does work I sure as hell don't wanna be here for the honeymoon."

"Eeeewwwww Bobby!" Sam squealed. "That's my _brother_. Now I have mental images. 's bad enough knowing he has to masturbate to summon Cas but now I _really_ need brain bleach."

"Shuddup you big girl and go tell your brother we're leaving."


	6. Chapter 6

**Chapter Six**

Dean slammed his eyes shut with a loud groan. He didn't remember opening the curtains. _Fucking Sammy must've done it when he came in here last night._

Dean rolled over away from the light streaming from the open curtains and slowly reopened his eyes to look at the clock. It was blocked by a note.

_Oh well, too hung over to manage to go back to sleep again anyway._

Dean picked up the note, blinking a couple of times to clear the sleep away from his eyes.

_Dean-_

_Went with Bobby on hunt. Be back soon. New spell on Bobby's desk to try to summon Castiel. Promise __NOT__ a joke. –Sam_

_P.S. If it doesn't work let's just pretend this never happened._

"What the fuck?"

Dean crawled out of bed. "They better not want me to sacrifice a virgin," he groused. Dean sleepily stumbled downstairs and into the office, grabbing Bobby's open bottle of whiskey and taking a swig before picking up the sheet of paper Bobby had left for him.

The words to the incantation had been written phonetically with instructions beside them. From the first line he could tell that it was most likely Enochian, which made sense since he was supposed to use it to try to summon an angel, but he didn't have a clue what it said though. Ignoring the spell itself, Dean read through the directions for what he would have to do while reciting the incantation.

_Before beginning put 3 drops of your blood in holy water (vial on desk)._

_Read the 1__st__ 2 lines._

_Add the bone of a lesser saint (also on desk) while reading the 3__rd__ line._

_Masturbate (Yes, you idjit. I am seriously telling you to yank it.)_

_Say Castiel's name when you blow your load and make sure your baby batter gets in with the rest of the ingredients. (And if you get any of your spunk anywhere else you damn well better clean it up)_

_Finally read the final line._

"You've gotta be frigging kidding me." Dean looked down at his crotch. Bad enough that he was expected to whack off and say Castiel's name, but what'll definitely make it more embarrassing if the spell works is that Bobby & Sam would know about it. It would definitely be worth any embarrassment if it worked and there was no way he would not try it even if there was only a one in a billion chance of it working. He'd just have to suck it up and go through with it. The only problem is that not so little Dean hasn't gotten perky since before Cas went god.

In all honesty, he wasn't really all that worried about Castiel seeing him in that state. Castiel had seen him at his very worst, barely human, covered in blood and gore, slowly filleting some poor fuck. Actually he's not quite sure that's exactly how Cas found him. The actual 'raised from perdition' thing was the one part of his stint in hell that he didn't remember. He'd asked Cas about it once and Cas told him he wasn't sure why Dean didn't remember but it could be because his human brain was not meant to process Cas' true form (Dean's pretty sure he didn't mean it as an insult).

Now that he thought about it, Dean realized that with as many times as Cas had just popped by it's probably more likely than not that he has caught Dean masturbating before and just didn't show himself.

Dean was surprised that he seemed to be getting aroused by the thought of Cas watching him. Sure he was a little bit of an exhibitionist. Not that he'd ever told anyone, but he'd always gotten a little more out of sex when there was the possibility of getting caught. This was different though. Dean was getting aroused more by his mental image of Cas watching him than anything else. _Damn I'm sick_, he mentally berated himself. _At least it looks like not so little Dean will be able to rise to the occasion._

As Dean prepared for the spell he struggled to keep from getting his hopes up. Cas could be gone for good this time…

Dean had decided to setup in the barn. After all, Bobby'd kill him if Dean got any spunk on any of his stuff.

Dean placed an empty bowl on the table, along with the vial, bone, and a knife. Dean silently mouthed through the entire incantation to make sure he'd get the pronunciation correct and paid particular attention to the final line. He'd hate to go through the entire spell just to muck it up because he was too sated to read it correctly, so he read that line over and over until he had it memorized.

It was midday and he still hadn't eaten. In fact his stomach was growling but he couldn't wait. That hope he'd been fighting against was seeping into his bones.

Dean looked down at his crotch. He couldn't believe the spell required _that_.

He'd shut and barred the barn door. Not that people came by Bobby's often, but the sheriff had apparently taken a shining to Bobby and he didn't want to chance her walking in on him while he was doing the spell, more because he was afraid she'd fuck it up by walking in than a sense of modesty.

Dean took a deep breath and brought his hands down to his jeans' button. Hands trembling nervously, he unbuttoned his jeans and slid the zipper down before sliding his penis through the slit in his boxers and tentatively giving it a gentle stroke.

He felt uncomfortable like this, pants slowly sliding down his hips, boxers getting in the way. Dean pushed his jeans and boxers down completely and began to stroke himself again. When he reached over to grab the lube he'd brought with him for this occasion, he tripped, barely catching himself on the table.

Growling in frustration, Dean gingerly sat on the ground and yanked off his boots, closely followed by his socks, jeans, and boxers. Dean stood back up brushing dirt off his hands and ass. He leaned back down to pick up his clothing and tossed them on the table out of the way of his supplies for the spell.

Again, Dean reached for the lube, hand paused halfway. "Now I just feel stupid," Dean said aloud before quickly removing the rest of his clothes and tossing them with the others.

Dean stood stark naked in the middle of the barn. A part of him wondered if this was some kind of cruel joke, but his heart knew Bobby and Sammy wouldn't do that to him.

Dean shook off thoughts of Sam and Bobby. They couldn't help him get into the right mindset. Closing his eyes, he conjured up images from his favorite magazine (of course Busty Asian Beauties). Right hand and cock slick with lube, he stroked his penis.

The images in his head slowly morphed, completely against his will. Asian eyes changed into wide blue eyes, perfectly styled dark hair melted into windblown tresses, and every beauty that flashed through his mind wore either an askew tie or a rumpled trenchcoat.

Bad enough that he had to masturbate in order to summon Cas, but to have Cas invading his fantasies so pervasively… Dean forced his mind to focus on one specific model, fighting back the details that didn't fit. Dean was annoyed when his efforts actually seem to lessen his arousal. He really hoped it was just because he was trying too hard.

With a frustrated sigh, Dean let go of himself. He might as well start the spell and just do whatever it took to get the job done when he got to that part. The spell itself was actually very simple. It didn't take long before Dean took himself in hand again.

Closing his eyes, Dean again began with visions of Busty Asian Beauties but this time when the images began to change he didn't fight it. Within moments he was actually masturbating to thoughts of Castiel. He felt dirty and guilty and…ashamedly aroused. In fact he was apparently more aroused than he can remember ever been while masturbating, since he came in just a few short minutes. With the circumstances, he didn't even have to struggle with remembering to say Castiel's name…he yelled it. He did nearly forget to say the final line of the spell though. Afraid to hope, Dean panted heavily, eyes clenched tight, hands resting above his knees as he struggled to stay upright.

* * *

AN: Sorry for the long wait for an update. I blame Clayton. He told me to read yaoi and I got sidetracked. Next chapter should be up soon and I'll try to update my other stories asap. Please review ;-)


	7. Chapter 7

**Chapter Seven**

"Dean!"

Dean's head swung up just to watch as Castiel slumped bonelessly to the ground.

"Cas!" Dean rushed to Castiel's side, completely unconscious of the fact that he was still butt-ass naked. Castiel lay, unmoving, _did I pull Cas to me just to have him die on me?_ "Cas!" Dean grabbed onto Castiel's shoulders and shook, "Please. Don't die on me."

"Dean," Castiel said weakly as he slowly opened his eyes.

"Cas, you okay man?"

"I seem to be free of the Leviathan," Castiel looked around the room, taking in the remnants of the spell Dean had just completed. "You started the ritual of binding," Castiel stated in shock. "How did you locate…?"

"Bobby and Sammy wrote it down for me then took off. But what do you mean by started? It's a summoning spell. You're here. What more could be left?"

"Of course," Castiel's voice sounded defeated, "you did not know. I should have known immediately."

"Known what?!" Dean asked, frustration rising.

"It is of no importance. I am…happy that you freed me from the Leviathan and that I got to see you one last time."

"Cas," Dean practically shouted. "What the hell do you mean one last time?"

"Dean, I don't want you to feel obligated to complete-"

"Castiel," Dean interrupted forcefully, "just tell me."

Castiel averted his eyes down away from Dean's face. Dean could have sworn that Castiel blushed; Dean definitely did as they realized that Castiel was unintentionally looking at Dean's naked groin. Springing apart, Castiel quickly averted his eyes again as Dean rushed over to pull on his jeans. After carefully zipping them up (he obviously didn't want to risk something getting stuck), Dean grabbed the instructions Bobby and Sam had left and walked right up into Castiel's personal space. "Here," he said, thrusting the sheet into Cas' hands. "Tell me what's missing."

"It has been more than a millennia since I have seen this ritual," Castiel stated evasively.

"And I'm sure you remember it like it was yesterday. Quit stalling."

"It' the ritual of binding…at least the first part of it."

"You mentioned that before," Dean interrupted. "What is the ritual of binding? It's not just a summoning spell?"

"The summoning part of the spell is so an angel's marked human can give their answer."

Dean's hand went directly to Castiel's handprint and watched as Castiel nodded slowly in answer to Dean's unspoken question. Of course Dean had considered the possibility that Castiel's handprint might hold more significance than merely being a souvenir of his journey outta hell. He'd have to be a fool not to; after all his life was just one complicated mess after another.

"What's the question Cas?" Dean asked, cutting straight to the issue.

"There is no human equivalent," Castiel sidestepped.

_Sneaky bastard._

"Explain it to me," Dean persisted.

Castiel physically shook, bringing Dean's attention back to the fact that Castiel apparently wasn't in the best of shape.

"Wait," Dean spoke up just as Castiel was about to start talking, 'whatever the rest of the ritual is…how much time do we have to finish it?"

"I do not know," Castiel began, "to my knowledge, no human has ever begun the ritual without immediately completing it."

"Well then what are the possible answers?"

"Dean, I don't think-"

"Cas just tell me," Dean smirked, "I'm a big boy, I can take it."

"The ritual is to complete or reject the binding of an angel and a human. There are only two choices, yes or no."

"Since you've been implying that I'm never going to see you again I'm guessing that 'no' ends badly for you?"

"It is less than ideal; however I do not want you to base your decision on what happens to me. It is not important."

"Cas. I was a frigging mess while you were gone, because you were gone. So what happens to you most definitely is important!"

"Why do you think I won't want to say yes?" Dean asked when Castiel remained silent.

"We would be bonded for all of eternity."

"You mean physically stuck together?" _Nah, completely impractical…there's no way._

"No," Castiel confirmed Dean's suspicion, "It's more like a joining of your soul and my grace."

"And what's so horrible about that?"

Castiel paused before answering, "I know how resistant you were towards having Michael take you as a vessel."

"But it's not like we'd have to share the same body or anything, right?"

"Yes, but it is considerably more invasive than reading your mind, the thought of which makes you quite upset. You have, in fact, accused me of it on more than one occasion."

"Cas," Dean paused to lift Castiel's chin so he could look him in the eye, "if it means that you will stick around then I'll learn to live with it."

"Bu-"

"No more buts," Dean interrupted. "What do I have to do?"

Castiel gulped nervously, even though it was Dean rushing this, he felt guilty. Under different circumstances, Castiel knew that Dean would never agree to the binding. He had hoped that Dean would never discover the true meaning of the handprint. No angel had used the binding since the Nephilim had been destroyed. He obviously had not consciously made the decision to mark Dean as his intended. In fact Castiel had never heard of an unintentional marking, which is perhaps why he had not been chastised for the action.

Dean had given Castiel time to come to terms, but for all he knew the clock was ticking. "Cas, is there any part of this binding thing that would be worse than eternity in hell?" Not waiting for an answer, Dean reached out to casually touch Castiel reassuringly on the arm, "Cause I would still be there if not for you. I want to do this."

Dean's hand felt as if it was on fire as they were enveloped in a bright light before everything faded away.

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AN: I know this chapter's kinda short but it felt like a natural break and I figured everyone would rather have more of the story sooner rather later. As always feedback is greatly appreciated.


	8. Chapter 8

**Chapter Eight**

Dean woke up sprawled on top of Castiel, still clutching his arm. The last thing he remembered was a sudden blinding light.

Castiel appeared to be unconscious beneath him and yet his hand was perfectly aligned with the mark on Dean's arm.

Dean felt achy everywhere. He'd swear that even his hair hurt. Fortunately he'd gotten partially dressed before whatever the hell _that_ was; this'd be a lot more embarrassing if he'd been naked on top of a very male angel of the lord. Gingerly, Dean raised himself off of Castiel and rolled over to lay by his side. Immediately Dean's hand, the one that had been clutching Castiel's arm, as well as the scar on his own arm, tingled, slightly smarting; after moments fading to a dull sense of loss.

When Castiel had first appeared, Dean hadn't noticed any obvious wounds. Of course all he was seeing was the vessel and surely the Leviathan would have made an effort to keep its appearance up to keep from drawing unnecessary attention. He was hoping that he'd be able to get Castiel to truthfully tell him if anything hurt but it'd probably be better if he quickly checked for broken bones or anything major; he had a feeling that Castiel would react to a broken bone or punctured lung like it had the importance of a splinter.

Starting at his ankles, Dean ran his hands up Castiel's legs, one after the other. "I'm just checking a friend for injuries," he muttered to himself as he fought back a wave of guilt and something else he was definitely _**not**_ going to put a name to even in his head.

Dean unbuttoned the front of Castiel's shirt and noticed a few minor bruises, nothing that looked serious. Lightly he felt over his ribs before buttoning the shirt back up. He was breathing erratically by this point, glancing up at Castiel's face every few moments, sweating bullets at the thought of being caught. Dean quickly ran his hands through Castiel's hair, feeling for any signs of swelling. _So far so good._ Finally he ran his hands up Castiel's arms, coming to a stuttering stop as he felt raised skin in what he'd bet was the shape of his hand on one of Castiel's arms.

"Cas," Dean shook him lightly.

Castiel shot upright, knocking Dean back onto his ass.

"Sorry," he apologized. "Are you alright?"

"Yeah, just caught me off guard… What the hell was that anyway?"

"Apparently the final step was not as exact as I had originally thought."

"So just me touching you on the shoulder was enough?" Dean asked incredulously. "You mean _that_ was all we had to do?"

"Most likely it was the combination of your touch and you saying that you wanted it, but it would appear so. I am sorry Dean. I had wanted you to be fully aware of the implications before making a decision."

"Don't worry about it," Dean smiled widely. "Now you can tell me all about it without me worrying about an invisible clock ticking."

Castiel still looked uncertain so Dean leaned forward to clap a hand on his back in reassurance. "C'mon." Dean easily climbed to his feet and leaned down to give Castiel a hand up. "Let's go get cleaned up."

In the grand scheme of things it didn't take Dean all that long to get Castiel in the house, but it did, admittedly, take longer than it should have. Sure they were both a little worse for wear, but Dean held onto Castiel with a death grip, as if he would disappear if Dean let go of him for even an instant.

Dean had quickly released Castiel to open the door and was pleased that he had not let go of him during the process, keeping his arm slung across Dean's shoulders.

"We need to clean up," Dean commented as he led Castiel upstairs to the shower. It was too tight for two fully grown men, but unwilling to completely loose contact, both reached for the others' hand, keeping them physically connected as they headed up the stairs.

Outside the bathroom door, Dean dropped Castiel's hand, "Go ahead and wash up. I'm gonna grab some towels and clean clothes." Ignoring Castiel's annoyed expression, Dean walked away, heading for the spare room.

Dean considered and discarded several pieces of clothing before finding something that wouldn't just fall off Castiel; they'd have to go out and get him some clothes. Dean didn't know what Bobby had done with the clothes Bobby had scrounged up the last time Cas'd gone human. Dean figured that he'd probably donated them somewhere…it's not like Dean, Sam, or Bobby could even fit in them and Dean had certainly never expected Cas to need them again when he'd fucked off to heaven after they'd stopped the apocalypse.

Dean headed back to the bathroom with a couple of changes of clothes and two towels slung over his arm. Dean knocked gently on the door before opening it, expecting Castiel to already be well on his way to being clean since he could hear the shower running. Surprisingly, Castiel was not even in the shower. He was not even clean. He _was_, however, standing naked in the middle of the bathroom, glaring and shivering as the shower continued to run, "that is unpleasant," Castiel stated crossly before Dean could ask.

Dean knew what the problem was immediately. Cas shivering. No fog on the mirror…who wouldn't? But Dean was having an unexpected problem. He couldn't seem to stop staring at Cas. His eyes hungrily and possessively traced the contours of Castiel's body. Castiel was not very muscular, but he was clearly strong and fit. Against his will, Dean's eyes continued their journey downward, noting Castiel's light happy trail, prominent hipbones, and…Dean ripped his eyes away, coughing nervously into his hand.

Eyes firmly on the floor, Dean sidestepped Castiel and reached into the shower to adjust the water temperature. His nerve endings sang that Castiel was just behind him. For once Dean refrained from reminding Castiel about personal space. He couldn't remember being this nervous around Castiel ever, and they'd had some doozies of awkward moments before.

Dean closed his eyes, unconsciously drifting back slightly as he examined what the hell was going on with him. He'd always been drawn to Castiel. Even when Cas'd threatened to hurl his ass back into hell, he'd felt a closeness he couldn't explain, but figured that the spell must be having some side effects. He knew he wasn't into guys. He'd seen naked men before and they did nothing for him. Sure he had a bit of a hero worship thing for Dr. Sexy – but he _most definitely did __**not**__ want to tap that_.

Dean could feel Castiel's breath on the back of his neck as he stood fully upright. He stood still for a moment, quietly – guiltily, enjoying the sensation as Castiel's breath caressed the tiny hairs on the back of his neck.

He slowly turned around to see Castiel's mouth mere inches from his. His mind flashed back over all the different times Castiel had shown a complete disregard for his personal space. They had been this close before; had he felt anything that would point to attraction any of those times?

"Dean?" Castiel stared worriedly at him and Dean realized that he'd been standing there staring at Castiel's lips for a long time and – considering the length of their previous staring matches – it must've been a hell of a long time for Cas to say anything.

Self-consciously, Dean shifted his eyes to the ground and side-stepped around Castiel again, "That should be better," Dean said as he walked to the bathroom door carefully, as if Castiel would jump him if he moved suddenly…like Castiel would ever do that. _Of course there was that whole trying to stick his tongue down Meg's throat horror show._ Dean knew that Castiel had just been experimenting…of course that thought made Dean imagine other things Castiel could experiment with.

"Dean?" Castiel's voice held a hint of worry and uncertainty.

Dean stopped, but did not turn around. "Go ahead and clean up. If you need me I'll be right outside the door." Dean carefully opened the door and shut it behind him. Collapsing against it he slid to the floor, struggling to pull his shit together. This was Cas. The man/angel he had told was a brother to him…his best friend…in all honesty his only friend. What the hell was wrong with him?

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AN: Sorry for the long wait between updates. I actually have another chapter of this mostly done so I should be updating it again soon. Feedback, as always, is appreciated.


	9. Chapter 9

**Chapter Nine**

Dean didn't really do the whole friends thing. He didn't really remember much of anything before yellow eyes killed his mom; but he was sure he must've had friends back then. Since his mom's death, they hadn't really stayed in one place long enough for friends.

There'd been a couple of chicks who'd considered themselves to be his girlfriends, but none of them had been much more to him than a piece of ass. After he'd dropped out and gotten his GED, Dean'd had even less opportunities to develop any relationships.

Sure he'd thought about a white picket fence ending with Cassie, and even tried it with Lisa and Ben; but the relationship had been fairly superficial.

Dean heard a sigh of contentment through the door. It figured that Castiel would have stared down the shower suspiciously before trying it again. Of course _that_ led to images of a very naked Castiel glaring at the shower.

To distract himself, Dean pulled his cellphone out of his jeans' pocket and rang up Sammy.

"Dean?" Sam's voice dripped with compassion and concern, "Is everything okay?"

Dean could hear the unspoken 'Did it work?' screaming between them.

"Yeah, Castiel is back. He's less than 100% but he's Cas again."

"Good. That's great."

Dean fidgeted nervously. Him and Sam didn't really do this whole silent awkward thing. Their conversations were pretty much straight to business. When Sam called him, or vice versa, it tended to consist of rushed exclamations like: 'Great! You're alive,' 'Get your ass here now,' and 'How the hell do you kill a blank?'

The silence between them was deafening but Dean needed to talk and he didn't know how to begin.

"Uh…Dean. You are okay…right?"

Dean didn't know how to answer that. He was physically alright, but he was definitely going through a major freakout of epic proportions.

After another awkward silence, Dean finally asked, "Is it possible for how you look at someone to do a complete 180 in a moment?"

Silence engulfed them again as Sam considered the true meaning of Dean's question.

Dean was about to say never mind and hang up, _freaking girl is probably loving every moment of this_, he thought viciously.

"Dean, it's okay if you've forgiven Castiel," Sam began hesitantly, "and it's okay if you haven't."

"It's not that," Dean said quietly.

Sam waited patiently for more. He really wasn't all that surprised when Dean didn't say more though. His brother was as emotionally stunted as a Wendigo. It was funny really – Dean's actions were almost completely driven by emotion, but the mere thought of talking about feelings was enough to give him psychological hives.

"If you won't tell me, tell Cas," Sam knew there was about a one in a billion chance, if that, that Dean would do it. "He's your best friend – your only friend." At Dean's indignant sound Sam added, "Bobby, Jo, and Ellen don't count. They're family." Before Dean could say anything else Sam added, "Cassie, Lisa, and Ben don't count either."

"Why not?" Dean argued, "You can be friends with lovers."

"Yes, but you never were friends with them, were you?"

"…"

"Just talk to him Dean."

"I can't," Dean choked out in a barely audible whisper.

"Why?" Sam asked using his best 'I care' voice, the one that made Dean seriously think he must have a baby sister.

"What if I tell him and he doesn't want to have anything to do with me ever again?" Dean hated the choked up, cracked quality to his voice.

"I seriously doubt that there's anything you could say or do to make Cas feel that way."

Sam could feel Dean's unspoken question. For all his swagger Dean really had almost no self-esteem.

"Think about it Dean. Think about everything Castiel has done since you've known him."

Sam sat quietly on the other end of the line, mentally tallying all the different crazy things he knew Castiel did for Dean.

Dean squirmed. He was uncomfortable even considering that anyone would do anything just for him. "Castiel tried to do what's right," Dean dismissed Sam's statement, trying not to sound defensive.

"Dean," Sam's voice dripped with disappointment, "you know, and I know, that's not true. Castiel tried to do what he thought you _**wanted**_ him to do and what he thought was best for _you_."

At Dean's huff of dissent, Sam pulled out the big guns. Remember that time we were in Dulles hunting a ghost? I was out questioning a couple of witnesses while you were supposed to be researching for once. When I got back you were seven sheets to the wind, plastered, drop dead drunk, crying, and…_**talkative**_!" Sam paused to give Dean time for this to sink in before continuing, "You told me what Cas said when you were 'being a pussy' and 'trying to wuss out' and Cas 'beat some sense' into you."

Sam waited expectantly for Dean's response. He was anticipating an embarrassed aha moment. Dean didn't do emotions. Even when drunk he kept things pretty bottled up.

Dean's confusion came through loud and clear even though he didn't say a word.

"You really don't remember?" Sam half asked, half stated.

"I remember getting drunk; I sure as hell remember Castiel beating the crap outta me; but I have no idea what the hell it is that you think you're hinting at!"

Sam repressed the urge to bang his head against the wall. It really wasn't all that surprising that Dean wouldn't remember this. He was a master at repressing feelings, just like their dad.

Taking a deep calming breath, Sam reminded Dean, "You said, and I quote, 'he frigging said he did it, all of it, for me' end quote."

"He didn't mean it that way!" Dean exclaimed defensively. Sam could easily imagine Dean's freckled skin flush with anger and embarrassment. "He was just trying to make me feel guilty."

"That is what he meant – and you know it too. That's why you got drunk that day, and that's obviously why you repressed it."

Dean's initial reaction was the desire to punch Sam, difficult since he was about a hundred miles away. His second reaction, after realizing _that_ wouldn't be happening anytime soon, was disbelief.

Sam knew Dean was about to shoot out another denial and just as Dean opened his mouth, "You know," Sam began conversationally, "it is possible for someone to care about you other than just family."

"But-"

"Lisa cared about you."

"Lisa didn't really know me," Dean retorted, confirming what Sam had suspected ever since Dean started hunting again.

"Castiel knows you."

Dean struggled to come up with a reply.

"He saw you in hell Dean. He knows the deepest darkest parts of you. He rebuilt you."

Sam could hear Dean squirming, literally.

"Besides you and Castiel '_**do share a more profound bond**_,'" Sam barely held back a snicker as he popped this final hole into Dean's emotionally stunted bubble.

"Sam," Dean growled out, warningly.

"Gotta go Dean," Sam chirped cheerily, "places to go; monsters to kill."

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AN: Hope you're all enjoying the story so far. Feedback is seriously addicting and I would absolutely love more ;-)


	10. Chapter 10

**Chapter Ten**

Dean listened to the shower running through the door as he stared at his phone in disbelief. Sam _was_ right – as much as he hated to admit it. No one knew the worst parts of him as well as Castiel did, and Castiel _did_ tell him that he did it all for him. Even the whole deal with Crowley was meant to protect Dean. He really should have been more understanding.

Dean heard the water shut off. He couldn't help picturing what Castiel would look like on the other side of the door.

After hearing a loud crash, Dean rushed into the bathroom to make sure Castiel was alright.

Castiel was sprawled out on the ground, wearing only a pair of boxers with jeans tangled up at his ankles.

Dean laughed, "What? Did you forget how to get dressed?"

"I tripped," Castiel growled out.

Dean leaned down to give Castiel a hand up.

"And now my ass hurts," Castiel complained, looking extremely pissed off.

"Poor baby," Dean crooned as Castiel stood up and, with what was most definitely not a conscious decision, Dean's hands slid around and began to massage Castiel's ass cheeks.

Dean couldn't believe what he was doing; his hands felt like they were on fire.

_Friends do __**not**__ massage friends' asses._

Dean ripped his hands away as if they really were on fire then feigned nonchalance.

Dean was torn. He really hadn't meant to do that. Should he apologize? Laugh it off? Pretend it didn't happen? Castiel seemed to decide not to acknowledge it. Did Castiel know how weird that was? Was he upset? _Did he like it?_ Dean decided just to ignore it unless Cas said anything. He knew he should probably turn around, but he stood watching Castiel's body flex, studying the way the light seemed to caress his skin as he dressed.

"Dean?"

Dean realized he had been staring at Castiel's now clothed chest for over a minute, "Sorry, spaced out."

Castiel tilted his head in consideration.

"It means my brain was taking a break from thinking about anything."

Castiel still looked slightly confused but nodded anyway.

They stood that way for Chuck knows how long, staring at eachother silently. Dean knew he should look away, but just like every other tine they did this, he just couldn't tear his eyes away.

Dean briefly wondered what this would look like if someone was watching him. He tended o do that more often since the alternate universe tv horror show Balthazar zapped them to.

Dean had avoided fan sites while he was there, petrified of what they'd be like. The ones that exist because of the books were bad enough. The things they had him and Sam do were horrifying.

_How long have we been standing here? Occasionally someone would show up and our staring matches but normally Castiel would suddenly tilt his head, as if listening to something fare away, before saying a brief 'I must leave' and fucking off to places unknown. How in the hell are we going to stop with Cas grounded and Bobby and Sam away._

Dean's stomach chose that moment to rumble loudly, reminding him that he hadn't eaten all day _and_ drawing Castiel's attention. Dean felt a wave of relief followed quickly by arousal and panic when Castiel's eyes sliding down his body caused an unexpected problem. Dean knew Castiel was just looking at his stomach, but another part of him was starting to stand up at the attention it was nearly getting.

"Why don't you order us something to eat while I hop in the shower?" Dean side-stepped around Castiel and turned the water back on. "Do you remember where Bobby keeps the menus?"

Castiel looked irritated when Dean turned back around, "Of course I remember."

"Hey, you're the one who forgot how to dress," Dean teased.

Castiel's eyes narrowed and he slowly, but purposefully, stalked forward. Dean didn't know what Cas was intending to do. He knew that Castiel wasn't going to hurt him, but there was just something about BAMF Castiel that had that traitorous part of Dean standing at full attention and had Dean stumbling back nervously.

Dean tripped and would have gone down hard but Castiel caught him, pulling him up against his chest.

Castiel laughed, "Did you _forget_ how to walk?"

Dean shot Castiel a look of annoyance before realizing the intimate position he was in, his body flush against Castiel's. Dean's heart raced. His pulse quickened. Dean's eyes shot down to Castiel's lips. They were so close it would really take nothing at all to close the distance and- Dean jerked his eyes back up to Cas'.

Castiel's eyes were fixated on Dean's mouth. _Was Cas thinking what I was trying most desperately not to think? _ Dean swallowed nervously, drawing Castiel's eyes to dart briefly to Dean's bobbing adam's apple before returning to his lips. Self-consciously, Dean licked his lips, forgetting the effect that type of action usually had.

"D-Dean?" Castiel's voice quavered.

Dean was normally the type to act before considering consequences, but if the last couple of months had shown anything, they'd shown how much Dean _needed_ Castiel in his life. If it had been any other guy making Dean feel this way he would've just gone with it, but this was Cas, and he just couldn't risk messing things up with him.

"Sorry…about ummmmm…before, Dean said as he gingerly slid out of Castiel's arms. "I was just teasing."

"I know," Castiel sounded disappointed, hell he _looked _disappointed.

Dean fought the urge to look down and see if Castiel had a boner, 'cause if Dean saw that Cas did, he doubted he would have the willpower _not_ to jump him.

"What type of food do you want me to order?" Castiel asked in a resigned tone. It was almost enough to make Dean change his mind…almost, but not quite. Nothing could mess up a friendship as much as sex. Not that he knew that from personal experience, but it always messed up things on Dr. Sexy.

"You pick," Dean smiled softly, "you know everything I like."

"Not quite everything," Castiel mumbled.

"What? Sorry, I didn't catch that."

"What if they ask something I don't know how to answer?" Castiel stated, pretending that was what he'd said in the first place.

"Then just ask them to hold on a minute and come ask me."

Castiel seemed oddly gladdened by that answer.

Dean was definitely happy that Castiel's mood seemed improved, but he just couldn't figure out what had made him so happy. He replayed the last few minutes out in his head as he undressed to get into the shower.

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AN: I always wondered what broke up Dean and Cas' soul gazing. Hope you guys like my explanation as well as the story. I'm trying to switch between updating my three stories, but I'll try to continue to update regularly. Not so subliminal message: read my others if you haven't and let me know what you think of them too ;-)


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